Save You
by mhx3
Summary: He would save her from the dangers of Gotham, and she would save him from loneliness and heartache. Post TDK. Bruce/OC.
1. He Thinks He's Batman

**Disclaimer: **As I'm sure you already know, I don't own any of the Batman characters.

**Chapter 1: He Thinks He's Batman**

"Looks like heavy rain and severe thunderstorms for the next few days here in Gotham. Keep your umbrellas with you at all times, and don't expect to see the sun for quite awhile. We're in for another gloomy weekend." Nora turned down the car radio and put her windshield wipers on high speed, struggling to see out the windshield. For once the weather report was accurate. Rain was pelting against the small vehicle as if trying to compact it into the pavement of the road with great force.

"Auntie Nora, did you hear me? I have to PEE."

"Benjamin, we're just a few miles from the city. For right now, you're going to have to hold it. There aren't any bathrooms around here. We're still in the country."

Nora Wood had just traveled to her hometown of Boston, Massachusetts to take her five year old nephew, Ben, off the hands of her sister. Andrea Wood was on her way to spend a week in Mexico sipping pink drinks under palm trees with her husband, and had kindly asked Nora to take care of their only son while they were vacationing. On the two hour drive back from Boston, Ben had not once stopped talking about how excited he was to go to Gotham, a city under the protection of the ever admirable Batman.

"I could go pee in that castle." Ben pointed nonchalantly, pointing a tiny finger out of his foggy window. Nora looked to her right and noticed, even through the partially blinding rain, an enormous mansion that looked to be at least one-hundred years old. She recognized almost instantly that it was Wayne Manor, which had burned down not too long ago only to be rebuilt brick for brick by a man who appreciated himself the most and his money the least, Bruce "Playboy" Wayne.

Nora pushed a strand of her shoulder length, pin straight black hair behind her ear in aggravation. Sighing, she peered at Ben in the rear-view mirror with a look expressing not only annoyance, but exhaustion.

"Ben, that's Wayne Manor. You can't just ring the doorbell and ask to use the bathroom. Bruce Wayne isn't the type of person to welcome random strangers into his home, not to mention strangers with a nonexistent social status." Nora, of course, knew that Ben would not understand a word of that. However, she had been to the Narrows enough to realize that the real scum of Gotham were the rich, who frolicked in their wealth and paid little attention to those less fortunate. Giving to charities said nothing about them except that perhaps that they enjoyed holding charity balls, bragging to the upper class about just how much they could afford to give away, and patting themselves on the back for donating a mere fraction of their money, as if they were God for doing so. It was disgusting, and Nora always stood for the suffering Gotham citizens – those who were not so unaware of reality and who knew the value of a dollar.

After she silently revisited her views of Gotham's self-proclaimed cream of the crop, Nora turned her attention back to Ben who was now wiggling in every which direction to avoid peeing his pants. She sighed, looking out into the woods from her window. He would just have to relieve himself there. There was no way she was going embarrass herself by asking to use Bruce Wayne's spotless restroom, reserved for himself and his frequent guests with much more than lint and a few crinkled dollar bills in their wallets.

"But I have to go! I can't pee my pants 'cause I don't want to pee my pants 'cause that's gross! Besides, I'm Batman! I can do whatever I want! Bruce Weiner can't stop me!" Bruce Weiner? She'd have to remember that one. She smiled slightly, about to respond to his silly argument, when she heard a loud "POP!" that could have only come from one of her tires, since she felt the car sag to the left in response. She cursed under her breath, slowed the car to a stop just a few feet away from the entrance gates to Wayne Manor, and reached under the seat for an umbrella.

"What was that? Is the car broken? Good, 'cause you can fix it while I pee in the castle!" Ben exclaimed happily. Nora, after a great deal of rummaging, found her old umbrella and pulled it out from underneath her. The ancient thing had many rips and tears in it and looked as if it could wilt away into nothing at any minute. Frowning, she turned back to Ben.

"You'll just have to go in the woods. The gates to Wayne Manor are closed, and they don't allow people in who did not merit an invitation. I'm sorry, Ben." He crossed his arms and scowled in defeat. Tilting his chin down, he allowed several strands of his strawberry blonde bangs to fall into his eyes.

"I don't want to go in the forest. It's dark and scary and wet."

Nora opened her car door and stepped out into the wetness and gloom that was Gotham. Though they were not yet in the city but only in the outskirts, they were still in what was considered Gotham which meant that they were subject to the darkest, most horrid weather possible. She managed, shockingly, to open her old umbrella. It guarded her from a few measly drops of rain and allowed for the rest to soak her completely while she bent over to look at her deflated tire. Hearing Ben sigh dramatically, she chuckled.

"You're afraid of the woods? Gee, I thought Batman wasn't afraid of anything." Usually a little bit of coercing worked like a charm when it came to five-year-olds.

"I'm not Batman, I just lied to you. Batman is big and strong and he doesn't look like me. He wears all black," he replied. 'So much for that idea,' thought Nora. She bent over, her red V-neck tee and dark denim jeans now soaking wet along with her jet black hair, and noticed a strange and very sharp object on the ground. It appeared to be some sort of car part, yet when she looked closely it oddly resembled a metal wing, perhaps of a bird. Just as she went to pick it up, she heard a polite voice calling out over the sound of the torrential downpour.

"Excuse me Miss, but may I assist you?" An old man poked his crooked nose through the steel gate, flashlight at hand. His English accent added a touch of wisdom and suggested that he possessed a great deal of kindness.

"Um, well, actually…yes. That would be wonderful. You see, I think I ran over this strange metal object. It looks like a wing of a bird…or perhaps a bat? I'm not sure if I can see well enough to change the tire, and my nephew has to go to the bathroom, and I…" While she rambled, the old man unlocked the gate and approached her with haste. He looked somewhat worried. Once he reached Nora's side, he bent over to pick up the metal piece. Tucking it under his arm, he offered Nora a small smile.

"Ah, well, I am quite skilled in changing tires, Madam…?"

"Wood. Nora Wood."

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Wood. You may call me Alfred. Now, if you will allow me to escort you to the house with your delightful young nephew, I would be happy to let him use our restroom. And as soon as you are inside I will tend to this problem right away," he informed her, bowing his head a little. Nora was taken aback. Never did she expect such hospitality.

"Oh, please, that will not be necessary-"

"But I insist, Madam." She hesitated, but agreed after witnessing Ben's face light up when the pair of them looked in his direction. Alfred smiled at him warmly. Nora walked over to his side, umbrella still at hand, and opened the door for Ben to step out. He quickly stood and continued to fidget. Alfred gave him an enchanting smirk.

"I have to pee, Mister. You have to let me use the bathroom in your castle, please! You don't know who I am but I bet you'll let me use it if I tell you that I'm…Batman," Ben told Alfred, clutching Nora's leg. Ah, so he was identifying himself as Batman again. Nora only hoped Bruce Weiner would not come up in conversation.

Alfred looked up at Nora with sparkling eyes.

"Well, Batman, of course you may use our bathroom. In fact, we love it when Batman comes to visit us. However, you would have been allowed to use it even if you weren't Batman, you know."

"Okay! Let's go, Auntie! See I told you. Now hurry!" Ben said, tugging at Nora's arm. Nora smiled down at him, unable to avoid his cuteness. She avoided being dragged in by her nephew for a few moments while she waited for Alfred to catch up, then the three of them quickly jogged up to the large oak doors.

Once inside, Alfred quickly led them down the hall to the left of the foyer. Nora briefly caught a glance of the sparkling crystal chandelier hanging from the tall ceiling, the ornate rugs and pieces of artwork, and the spotless wooden tables with fresh flower arrangements strategically placed among them. Before she could take in the grandeur of the mansion and the vastness of the rooms, she was pulled into a large white bathroom by her eager nephew. She thanked Alfred quickly before Ben slammed the door, pulled down his pants, and went to it. She heard Alfred say he was going to change her tire through the door. What a nice man.

Ben finished, sighing in relief, and let Nora lift him up so he could reach the sink. He grinned when he saw his reflection in the mirror that was three times his size.

"Don't get any ideas. As soon as Alfred finishes changing the tire, we're leaving," Nora warned. He shrugged, dried his hands, and they exited.

This time, once back in the hallway, Nora had time to take in the glory of the home. She found herself completely awestruck. The ceilings seemed to go on forever, and the 18th century décor was absolutely gorgeous. She somehow navigated them back to the foyer, where the chandelier towered over them. Ben smiled up at the crystal object above his small head.

"It's over one-hundred years old." A deep yet soothing voice startled Nora, and she noticeably jumped. She turned around to find Bruce Wayne, a face she recognized from the newspapers and magazines, standing on the staircase in Levi jeans and a form-fitting black tee. He gave her a warm smile after noticing her dark chocolate eyes widen with surprise.

Nora gulped down the lump in her throat. Despite her views of this man, she had to admit that he was quite intimidating. Not only was he a multi-billionaire, but he was overbearingly attractive. It was easy to see that he was incredibly physically fit, with biceps pulling at the sleeves of his shirt. He had a haircut that was young yet professional. At the moment, though, his hair looked rather boyish. It was ruffled, and his bangs were loosely scattered across his forehead. His thumbs were stuffed into his tight pockets. Despite his somewhat stubbly chin and the hint of exhaustion in his expression, his sparkling eyes and the half smile playing at his lips made him exceedingly charming.

Nora was lost for words. She could only stare at the beautiful human being in front of her – she took in everything from his bare feet against the plum carpet to his broad shoulders, thick neck, and pouty pink lips. Ben looked up at his aunt, wondering why she was not speaking. When he realized she was not about to break from her trance, Ben spoke up.

"What's over one-hundred years old?" Bruce Wayne broke eye contact with Nora, then looked down at Ben. He traveled down a few stairs before reaching the floor of the foyer.

"The chandelier above you. And who, might I ask, are you?" He approached Ben, who stood to the right of Nora, and knelt down in front of him with a grin. Ben squeezed Nora's sweaty hand when he realized how close this stranger was getting.

"I'm Batman. Who are you?" Ben questioned, as if the fact that he was Batman was the most obvious thing in the world. Bruce raised his eyebrows in surprise. He then glanced up at Nora, who smiled down at him.

"His name is Ben. He thinks he's Batman," Nora informed Bruce, laughing.

"I AM Batman!" Ben growled, distastefully glancing up at Nora. He then let go of her hand and crossed his arms in anger.

"You told me you weren't Batman in the car, when you refused to go into the forest. Remember?" Nora said, surprised that she found her voice. She playfully ruffled his hair. Ben mumbled something in frustration.

"Well, Batman, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name's Bruce Wayne. You can call me Bruce. And who is this pretty lady?" Bruce asked Ben, nodding towards Nora. Nora blushed.

"Auntie Nora. She doesn't believe I'm Batman, but I am." Bruce looked up at Nora again and gave her a wide grin. Her stomach fluttered against her will. Standing, Bruce placed his hands into his pockets and returned his gaze back to the adorable child.

"Well, since you're Batman, you probably don't want to tell everyone you know. I hear the identity of Batman is supposed to remain a secret. But don't worry, I won't tell anyone your secret. And, well, if your aunt does not want to believe you, so be it. You know the truth, right?" Bruce asked sweetly. Nora was amused by Bruce's ability to interact with children, seeing as he ran his own company and usually had models clinging to him at all times. Kids don't seem to really fit into such a life.

Ben nodded, smiling slightly. Bruce then, once again, found Nora's eyes.

"Alfred told me about your situation. I'm sorry about your car, and I'm sorry you had to be outside in such weather. Anyway, I'm Bruce Wayne. Nice to meet you," he said coolly, holding out his hand. Nora took it, finding it hard to breathe. What the heck was happening to her? This was Bruce "Playboy" Wayne. This was Mr. "Hot-shot." Mr. "I'm the Greatest Thing since Sliced Bread."

"Nora Wood. Nice to meet you, too. You have a beautiful home," she admitted, taking in her surroundings once again. Anything to keep her from losing herself in his coffee eyes. She noticed that his handshake was firm, almost too firm, and that his hand was twice as large as hers. It engulfed her small fingers as if she were shaking hands with a baseball mitt.

Bruce thanked her, and she finally let her hand slip from his after a long-lasting handshake. They stood there, awkwardly, until Bruce spoke again.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee or tea? A towel?" Nora looked at him with question, and then it occurred to her that she was sopping wet. She was probably making puddles right there on Bruce's floor. Ben, of course, was damp. Yet Nora still had droplets of water running down her face and arms. Her hair was sticking to her head, and it felt stringy. She probably looked like she just walked out of a swamp. Suddenly, redness filled her cheeks. Before she could respond, however, the front doors opened to reveal Alfred.

"Ah, Alfred. How did everything go?" Bruce asked, aware that he had made Nora uncomfortable. Guiltily, he diverted his attention to his old butler.

"Excellent. I am happy to say that I was able to change your tire with ease, Miss Wood. Whenever you wish to continue on with your journey, you may. However, do not feel hurried at all. You are welcome to stay as long as you would like. And that goes for Batman, as well," Alfred said, giving Ben a wink. Bruce and Alfred shared a knowing glance, and Nora felt like she was missing something.

Ben shushed Alfred, who apologized immediately after learning that Ben was now trying to keep the fact that he was Batman a secret.

"Thank you for everything, Alfred. And thank you for allowing us to use your bathroom, Mr. Wayne. It was very nice of you. I'm afraid, however, that we should get going. It's getting late, and we really must get home," Nora said tiredly.

"It was no problem, Miss," replied Alfred. Bruce's smile faded, and he looked disappointed.

"Really, don't sweat it. But, you're welcome. And call me Bruce."

**Author's Note:**

**Please review! It's my first Batman fic, so go easy on me. :) Thank you for reading. **


	2. We Meet Again

**Disclaimer: If I owned the Batman characters, I would not be writing this. Instead I'd be out basking in my glory. **

**Chapter 2: We Meet Again**

Nora stood in front of the mirror above her makeup cluttered sink and took a deep breath, refusing to let her nerves get the best of her. She played with her layered dark hair, fixing a few stray strands. She then studied her face, checking her newly applied makeup. Her eyes were lined with a touch of black eyeliner, and she had gone with a shimmering bronze shadow for her lids. For the finishing touches, she had applied some pink blush and a bit of lip gloss. She never wanted to overdo it, and was comfortable with the "natural" look.

Today was the day of her big interview. Nora, only 25, had been out of college for three years working as a freelance photographer. She hoped to one day open her own gallery; however, right now she worked for whoever would hire her in order to pay the bills. Recently she had signed a three-month contract for _Gotham Digest,_ a popular magazine that featured articles on just about every topic imaginable. She had photographed everything from the construction of new buildings in Gotham to everyday people on the street. She had a knack for capturing perfect moments, which was perhaps why she was called to interview for a full time position for _Gotham Digest._

She had taken up photography in high school, and had been inspired by her middle-eastern mother, who had been an artist since she was born. She was always carrying around her camera, snapping photos of her goofy friends and the irresistible innocence of her puppy, Bailey. Her sister, Andrea, was the complete opposite of Nora. She had been more into science and math than art and language, whereas Nora excelled at subjects involving the right brain. And Nora, despite her flawless mocha skin, curvaceous body, and her exotic yet beautiful facial features, was a bookworm. She, rather than going off on the average teenage adventures and getting into trouble like Andrea, had preferred to be alone in her room with her puppy at her side and a good book in hand. She could still remember the countless hours she had spent rereading _Pride and Prejudice_ while Andrea had been out with pierced adolescent boys.

"Auntie, I think I'm ready," Ben said, snapping her out of her thoughts. His head was poking into the bathroom and his face displayed nothing but excitement. Today would be Ben's first day at the _Gotham City Day Care Center_, for which Andrea had signed him up to keep him occupied during the day. Thankfully, Nora could focus on her work while Ben participated in fun activities with several other kids his age.

"Okay, let me see you," Nora said, turning to face the doorway. Ben came out from behind the wall, and stood proudly with his chin held high. He attire for the day included a Spongebob Squarepants T-shirt, faded denim jeans, and bright orange sneakers that lit up when he walked. Nora chuckled lightly at her adorable nephew.

"You look magnificent. Okay, grab your bag and we'll be on our way."

* * *

"Master Wayne, wake up."

Bruce slowly opened one eye to see Alfred, who was holding a glass of orange juice in one hand and some sort of painkiller in the other. Bruce was lying on his bare stomach, the cotton sheets resting at his bruised waste, with one muscular arm extended above his head, resting underneath a pillow. He bent his knee slightly and turned on his side to face Alfred, then removed his right hand from under the pillow and placed it over his eyes, shielding him from the blinding sun. Alfred opened the curtains each morning to allow the bright rays to reach his very grumpy master, despite his bitter complaints.

Bruce groaned as he tried to sit up, exposing his bare chest. He winced and reached for his back, and Alfred immediately stuck the white tablet underneath Bruce's nose. Bruce gave him an annoyed look, then grabbed it and swallowed it dry.

"Juice?" Alfred offered. Bruce shook his head, then pretended he didn't hear his butler inform him that he needed his calcium. Instead, he dropped to the floor to start his daily set of push-ups. Alfred sighed.

"Perhaps you should be more careful, Master Wayne, so that guests arriving at Wayne Manor will not stumble across pieces of Batman's collapsing vehicle."

"I noticed that a small grenade hit the back, but I was not aware that the stupid metal bat decoration had fallen off on my way up the driveway. I was more impressed with my ability to get back home without causing major destruction to the Tumbler," Bruce explained between heavy breaths. He had easily just done about 100 push-ups and was at last starting to slow down.

"Nothing about the Tumbler is a decoration, sir. I know just as well as you do that nearly everything can be used as a weapon of some sort," Alfred reminded. Bruce pushed himself off of the carpet and brushed his hands.

"I know, Alfred. I'm sorry. I'll try to be more tactful next time."

"Well, Master Wayne, at least it brought two interesting strangers to Wayne Manor. I especially liked the five-year-old vigilante." Bruce smiled at him, putting on his robe. Together, they headed down the winding staircase towards the kitchen.

"I especially liked them both, Alfred." When they reached the kitchen, Bruce plopped down on a stool at the bar and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl that was tempting him. Alfred walked straight to the fridge and started to gather the ingredients for his master's breakfast.

"As did I. However, Miss Wood did not say much. Perhaps it was because she felt as though she was intruding. A false assumption, indeed…" Alfred trailed off.

"Or, perhaps she was dazzled by my dashing looks. I'm Bruce Wayne, you know," Bruce said jokingly, his mouth full. He had downed almost a full apple in under a minute. Alfred had learned to dismiss his boyish eating habits.

"I had no idea. You know, if you were in fact the 'playboy' that you pretend to be, I'm afraid I would be forced to pack my bags and abandon you against your father's wishes," Alfred replied with glimmering eyes. Bruce laughed.

"I was merely practicing for the charity ball tonight. Will those ballet dancers be accompanying me as planned?"

"Yes, sir, although with all due respect, I must ask if that will upset your lady friend, Miss Harding."

"She knows very well who I am. She's an editor for _Gotham Digest_! She oversees stories about me every day. She must know who she's getting involved with." By this time, Alfred had prepared two eggs over-easy, two slices of toast, and had sliced fresh strawberries for Bruce's meal. He placed a full plate in front of Bruce, who hungrily dug in to it like he hadn't eaten in weeks.

"Yes, but if this relationship is intended to be serious, sir, I would expect her to be unhappy with you for escorting three beautiful young women to the ball." Bruce swallowed a clump of food, then looked at his butler with saddened eyes.

"You know I don't do serious relationships, Alfred. I made that mistake once before."

Alfred knew right away that he was referring to Rachel. Only a few months had passed since her death, which had taken a great deal out of his master. He was still grieving, and had refused to talk about his emotions. He was keeping them bottled up, which Alfred knew to be very unhealthy. He needed to let go, move on, and go back to being himself again. Alfred longed to see his master truly enjoy life once more and be rid of the heart-wrenching pain that was hidden deep inside him.

Their conversation ended, and Bruce finished his breakfast in silence. He then rushed upstairs to shower and get dressed for another long day as Bruce Wayne, head of Wayne Enterprises.

* * *

Sarah Harding pressed her black-rimmed Versace glasses further up the bridge of her nose and clicked her pink pen. Nora could see all of Gotham behind her interviewer, whose office was absolutely breathtaking. It was spacious enough to fit at least one hundred people, and was lined with tall glass windows that were so clear, it was as if one could easily step off the edge and plunge 20 stories to their death. As Nora gazed out of the windows, she tried to focus on something other than the intimidating woman in front of her. Sarah Harding was an intelligent, extremely beautiful blonde who had the power to crush Nora's hopes for the job with just a few brief words.

Placing Nora's resume back down on her oversized oak desk, Sarah offered a polite yet fake smile in Nora's direction. Nora suddenly felt uneasy.

"Well, I've looked over your resume thoroughly. I must say that you would be an excellent addition to our staff. Welcome to _Gotham Digest_," she said, standing to shake her new employee's hand. Nora's 

mouth dropped slightly, but she pulled herself together and shook Sarah's hand. Sarah straightened out her tight black pencil skirt and flipped her perfect blonde hair. She looked like she would rather be anywhere else at the moment. In fact, Nora had noticed that, while she had been talking about her qualities and going over her portfolio, Sarah had continuously glanced at the clock, uninterested. Thus, Nora thought that she was for sure not going to get the job. She thought wrong.

"Well, you may start right away. You will be given a cubicle in the photography department. Also, I would like for you to attend a charity event tonight. It will be held at the Hilton, and it will be formal. Hopefully you'll find something to wear in time. Many members of Gotham's upper class will, of course, be attending, so try to get as many photos of them as possible. We are currently working on a three page story on the most charitable people of the city. It has to be ready for press at the end of the week, which is why you are getting this last minute assignment."

The magazine had many different components. Sarah Harding was the editor of the social affairs component, thus Nora would now be photographing very important people and making herself present at social events. Sure, it was not her dream job, but it paid better than any other that she had been offered.

"Absolutely. I will prepare for tonight's event right away. Thank you so much for the opportunity. You will not be disappointed," Nora said sincerely. Sarah nodded and briskly walked out of her office. Nora was left to silently congratulate herself. Now that she had a stable job, even if it involved schmoozing with the wealthy, repulsive snobs of Gotham, it would certainly be easier to pay her rent. Maybe she could even afford to treat herself with some new clothes. Hers were quite plain. And to be honest, she looked forward to splurging on a dress for the ball that night.

* * *

"You're absolutely sure you don't mind watching Ben tonight?" Nora asked her close friend, Allison Hayes. She had agreed so quickly to Sarah Harding's request that she had completely forgotten to think about Ben. Obviously, she couldn't bring him to a charity ball, especially when she had to work. So, she called up one of her friends and, thankfully, she was not busy.

"Yes, and if you ask me one more time I'm going to slap you. Seriously, Nor, relax. Oh, try this one on!" Ally exclaimed, holding up a red halter top dress for her friend to see. Nora made a face.

"That screams whore, Ally."

"Oh, come on! You're too conservative! You dress like a nun!" Ally exclaimed.

"I do not! I just don't wear anything that completely exposes my breasts or my ass. Is that a crime?"

"Nowadays, yes." The two browsed around the store for awhile. When Nora had called Ally, she had asked for two favors. One was to watch Ben that night. The other was to meet her at _Vestido_, a famous dress store in Gotham. She desperately needed Ally's help with choosing something proper to wear.

Nora finally settled on a royal blue, floor length evening gown. It had a large bow in the back and was strapless, exposing her shoulders and a great deal of her back. She wondered if she was overdoing it, especially since she was just a photographer, but Ally convinced her that royal blue was her color and that it flattered her mocha skin and black hair perfectly.

She and Ally picked up Ben afterwards. He had many stories to share about his first day as they drove back to Nora's small apartment. Nora was thankful that, although the apartment was small and somewhat run down, she did not have to live in the dangerous Narrows.

Once settled inside with Ally, Ben went right to the couch to catch his daily dose of cartoons. Nora went right to the bathroom to shower and get ready.

Two hours later, Nora was had showered, shaved, applied make-up, perfume, hairspray, and jewelry, and had slipped into her new gown. She had also managed to fasten her complicated high heels around her ankles and pull her curled hair to the side of her head elegantly. Ally was sitting on the couch with Ben and a bucket of popcorn. When she noticed her friend rush down the stairs, rummaging through her clutch purse for her cell phone, she gawked.

"NORA! Oh my God. You look breathtaking," she said with wide eyes.

"Auntie, you look like an angel," Ben said sweetly. Nora smiled at the two of them.

"You guys are the best. Thank you. Oh, it's six o'clock. I have to be at the party by seven. I have to get going. See you later, Ally. Ben, you'll be sleeping when I get home, so goodnight and be good. Ally, you know what time he goes to bed and everything?"

"Yes, you only told me thirty times. Go have fun. I don't expect to see you until the wee hours of the morning. I guarantee you'll have some male companions by the end of the event, too," Ally said, winking. Nora rolled her eyes.

"See you later."

* * *

Bruce Wayne stepped off of his private helicopter with three Russian ballerinas hitched to his arms. As always, he arrived in style. Alfred, who had already arrived at the hotel, rolled his eyes at his master. Bruce had to pretend to be someone he was not, yet Alfred knew that there was no stopping him from having a blast while doing so. After all, Bruce's somewhat large ego made it easy for him to play a billionaire bachelor with an even larger one.

Immediately after entering, Bruce and his cake-faced companions were handed glasses of expensive champagne. CEOs of million dollar companies and heirs of oil fortunes came forward to greet Bruce, who was considered one of the few gods of the business world. Bruce smiled and nodded at them, politely accepting their pats on the back and words of praise - what he really knew to be a disguised form of ass-kissing.

When he finally got a chance to find Alfred and ditch the rich idiots that were crowding around him, Bruce sighed with relief. Alfred held up a plate of caviar, as if the lavish delicacy would cheer him up.

"No thanks. I've only been here five minutes, and I'm already sick of these people."

"Bruce Wayne." Bruce snapped his head to the right to find Sarah Harding standing before him, as leggy and seductive as always. She wore a black gown that dipped down the center of her chest and almost revealed her belly button. The dress also displayed a good deal of her left leg through a rather wide slit in the fabric. Bruce began wonder where the other half of her dress was. However, he enjoyed looking at whatever Sarah had strategically planned on showing off. And of course, glittering diamonds decorated her neck and weighed down her ear lobes. She had a hand on her small waist and was looking at him devilishly.

"Am I too much for you to handle, or do you prefer being accompanied by the Russian ballet to prove to yourself that you are indeed the womanizer they say you are?" Bruce grabbed a cracker topped with caviar from Alfred's tray and shoved it in his mouth.

"That's a trick question, Ms. Harding. You see, if I chose either one of those options, I would not only belittle myself but provide you with the self-satisfaction that I am not quite sure you deserve," Bruce teased with his mouth full and a smirk emerging from his pink lips. Sarah mirrored his smirk and leaned in to plant a brief kiss on his mouth. Alfred shook his head and walked away from the pair, deciding to continue serving the guests.

Bruce raised his eyebrows at the alluring woman. She had a great figure, the most tantalizing blue eyes, and could hold a conversation longer than the entire Russian ballet combined. She was completely his type, which scared him a little. They had been dating for a few months, but he couldn't really say what it was that they had. He did not want to call it a relationship, but she was certainly not just some girl. Perhaps she predicted it to be long-lasting, but Bruce only saw it as a way to keep him from loneliness. He did not ever think he'd be in love with Sarah Harding, for he forbade himself from loving again. Those he loved only ended up getting hurt.

Sarah played with the jacket of his tuxedo, running her hand up and down the hem. Bruce licked his lips, entranced by her. He was familiar with this game that she was playing. She would taunt him the entire night, then somehow wind up in his bed.

Bruce looked up for just a moment. His quick senses allowed his eyes to immediately track down a vibrant flash of blue among the crowd of people. Instantly, he recognized that it was a woman's gown that had caught his eye. He studied her face, and recognized her immediately. Nora Wood was at the charity ball, looking lost among the affluent snobs. She held a camera in her small hand, every once in awhile snapping a photo of an important face. Bruce couldn't help but realize how perfect she looked. Her dress clung to her chest and waist, then flowed out over her legs, drowning them in a sea of blue. She looked as if she were floating gracefully about the room. Her hair was pinned to the side, her cheeks were flustered from her swift movements between groups of people, and her naturally tan skin made her look beautifully healthy. Bruce swallowed to dampen his parched throat, and his breaths quickened.

Sarah noticed he was staring in one certain direction, and followed his eyes. She hid her jealousy when she realized that Bruce, along with most of the men in the room, was drooling over Nora Wood. What was with him? She had picked out the most revealing dress to keep his eyes only on her, yet that stupid photographer had to catch his attention.

"Nora!" Sarah called. Bruce glanced quickly at Sarah, stunned that she knew who Nora was. Nora looked around the large ballroom for just a moment, then realized that her name was called from the left, back corner of the room. Camera at hand, she walked towards the scantily clad editor without a glance at the man standing beside her.

"Yes?" she asked politely, brushing her side swept bangs from her eyes. Sarah grinned widely.

"Get a picture of Mr. Wayne and I, would you? Bruce, you don't mind if I portray the girlfriend of one of the most amiable men in Gotham, do you?" Sarah asked, claiming her property by placing a hand on Bruce's chest. Nora, upon hearing his name, looked up at Bruce with shock.

"No, I don't mind at all. Where is he?" Bruce joked. Sarah giggled obnoxiously and kissed his cheek. She then glared expectantly at Nora with cold eyes. However, Nora failed to notice. Her eyes were locked with those of the man she had met only a few nights before, her mouth slightly agape. Why could she never find words when she was in this man's presence?

"Nora?" Sarah asked through gritted teeth. Nora broke eye contact with Bruce and put the camera up to her face. She asked the couple to smile, then took a few photos from several different angles. Taking the camera back down from her face, she realized that Bruce's eyes had never left her. She cleared her throat, blushing. Before Nora could think to walk away, an older couple approached Bruce and Sarah. Nora instantly recognized them to be the owners of one of the most successful jewelry companies in the world, and asked to take their picture. They obliged, then began discussing business and politics with Bruce, completely ignoring his clingy girlfriend. Nora made like she was searching for more people to photograph, when really she was eavesdropping on their conversation.

"What is your opinion on this Batman character, Mr. Wayne? I know you have always supported our police department in all that they do, but do you really believe this caped vigilante can protect our city from destruction as well? I mean, what can he do that the police cannot?" Nora noticed that Bruce looked taken aback at first, but he quickly wiped all evidence of surprise from his face.

"Well, I…I think Batman is wasting his time. Gotham is taking the necessary measures to enhance and better equip the police force, which will in turn make a great difference. This bat creature thinks he can save Gotham by dressing up in a theatric costume and parading around the city like a maniac. Such an unstable man can only get in the way of the real heroes, the policemen, who are just trying to do their job to the fullest," Bruce explained, placing a hand on Sarah's hip. Nora felt suddenly disgusted. Bruce's grand entrance earlier with Malibu Barbie 1, 2, and 3 was enough to make her roll her eyes. Now he was insulting the one man who was willing and strong enough to handle the violence that went unnoticed by the police. So what if he dressed like a giant bat? He was saving lives, and that was all that mattered.

Nora quickly walked away from them as they all agreed with Bruce's completely horrifying views of Batman. She got a shot of a few more people, finding it hard not to vomit. She could not bear to listen to any more of these people's ignorant and selfish beliefs of the world around them. She found the exit after feeling certain that she had captured several useable frames. She traveled down the hall and found an empty sofa across from the restrooms. She plopped down on it and crossed her arms. How long would this ball last, anyway? She had only been there for about an hour and she was already yearning to be home. She knew the night would not necessarily be eventful, but she didn't expect to feel caged in by people who didn't give a shit about the regular citizens of Gotham. She expected there to be at least a few people that weren't so bad.

After hearing the words coming from Bruce Wayne's mouth, all hope of him actually being a kind person went out the window. She had seen the way he acted at Wayne Manor and the way he acted tonight. It was as if he were two completely different men.

"I thought you left already." Nora tilted her head up to meet the deep chocolate eyes of the man she was just thinking about. She sighed and looked away, furrowing her eyebrows. She did not know why he took her silence to be an invitation for him to sit beside her. The sofa was not very large, thus when he sat, their thighs slightly touched. Nora was not affected by this. After all, she was beginning to despise the conceded playboy.

"It feels good to sit and rest. I needed a break," he admitted, trying to meet her eyes. She turned her head further away from him, her arms still crossed. He chuckled lightly. What the hell was he laughing at?

"I get the sense that you are angry, Miss Wood. I can't imagine that it was something that I did, for we have only met once before…and I merely let your nephew use my restroom. How is Ben, by the way? Still pretending to be Batman?" Nora finally allowed her eyes to meet his again. Both his eyes and his mouth were smiling, making her stomach squirm. 'No,' she thought, 'this man is an egotistical ass with a soft spot for kids.'

"He is fine, Mr. Wayne. And yes, he adores Batman, or, shall I say, Gotham's very own masked _maniac,_" Nora snapped coldly. The mocking smirk on his face only widened, and she wished she had the balls to slap it off.

"So you overheard my conversation about Batman, did you? Since you have clearly shown that you are opposed to my views, please do enlighten me with yours," he suggested, crossing his muscular arms to mimic her. She frowned at him, asking herself why she was wasting her time arguing with Mr. Hot Shot.

"Why would you want to hear what I think, Mr. Wayne? You seem to consider your ideas to be perpetually right and everyone else's to be wrong. If I wanted to converse with people like you, I would have had no objection that night Alfred invited me into your home. However, out of fear of meeting such a narcissistic asshole, I was hesitant. It's a shame that my assumptions about you were proven correct," Nora rambled, not aware of how heated she was getting. After the words had escaped her mouth, however, she realized she had gone too far. Instead of apologizing like a complete idiot, she stood and walked swiftly down the hallway and disappeared back into the crowd of people. Bruce was left to contemplate her harsh words in silent shock.

**Author's Note: **

**Thank you for the reviews. I enjoyed every one of them. They really do encourage me to keep writing, so please continue sending your kind words/criticism my way :)**


	3. Catastrophes

**Disclaimer: Too bad I don't own the Batman characters, nor Christian Bale. **

**Author's Note: Thanks SO much for the reviews. I love you all. I saw TDK for the third time in IMAX, and it was AMAZING, yet again. Go see it in IMAX if you can. Here's the next chapter…enjoy. **

**Chapter 3: Catastrophes f**

Nora spent the rest of her evening drinking champagne and avoiding Bruce. Thankfully, he did not try to track her down again. She guessed he could take a hint. He did, however, remain in close proximity to Sarah Harding, who claimed to be his girlfriend. In Nora's opinion, the two deserved each other. Bruce may have possessed a knack for running Wayne Enterprises, extreme handsomeness, and a way with children. However, his egotistical mannerisms, unnecessary purchases, and lack of appreciation for women as people rather than play things overruled his few good qualities.

Guests were still dancing, drinking, and bragging about themselves when Nora decided to leave. She said goodnight to her boss, who nodded at her, then continued on with her conversation about vacation homes with two other snooty women. It did not take her long to get down to the main lobby, for she was practically running down the halls, away from the people she had been tortured by the entire night.

She got into a cab clumsily, losing her balance as she tried to climb into the back seat. She was a little tipsy, but not entirely drunk. Her feet hurt from standing all night, and her hair was coming undone. As she closed the door, she let her shoulders, eyes, and head droop, exhausted.

"Where to?" asked the cabbie.

"27 Jefferson Lane, please."

When the cab started moving, Nora grabbed her handbag and started digging around for her wallet. She opened it, allowing a few old receipts and a couple of pennies to fall out in the process. She was not necessarily the most organized person in the world.

"Shit!" she whispered to herself, realizing she only had about ten dollars with her. She had spent most of her cash on the cab fair to the Hilton, and had stupidly forgotten to get more for the way back.

"Um, excuse me? How far will ten dollars get me?" she asked aloud. The cab driver looked at her suspiciously in the rearview mirror.

"To the Narrows, miss. Would you like me to stop somewhere for you to get cash? The Narrows aren't far from Jefferson Lane, as you know, but I don't think it would be wise to walk home from there."

Nora's mind was still a bit fuzzy from the alcohol. Normally, she would have thought about this dilemma for awhile longer. Instead, she made a quick decision, desperate to be home in her warm bed.

"No, don't bother stopping. I'll just walk home from there. It's not very far…my apartment is just on the other side of the Narrows. It will probably take me about ten minutes. Just drive," she said, slightly slurring her words.

* * *

They reached the dimly lit, most violent part of the city in no time. The cab driver stopped, gave Nora a worried look, and took her ten dollar bill with hesitance.

"Good luck, Miss. Be safe." He sped off into the darkness without another word. Nora sighed, her feet aching and her dress becoming more and more uncomfortable as she walked. She probably looked incredibly vulnerable at the moment, but she didn't care. She was almost home.

She walked along the sidewalk, holding her breath as she passed each dark alleyway, aware that someone could easily grab her at any moment. She prayed that she would make it home alive.

After a few minutes of walking, Nora began to contemplate the evening. It started out fine. She did her job quite well, and managed to hold light conversations with several guests. After being around them for about a half hour, though, she began to overhear things that left her fuming. She grew frustrated, and although she took some great pictures, her mood worsened with each second. The nauseating discussions and fake smiles suffocated her. Perhaps she could not handle this job.

And seeing Bruce and Sarah together angered her, as did Bruce's ignorant opinion of Batman, the man that she and her nephew both admired greatly.

And then she blew up on Bruce Wayne. What the hell had happened to her? She would never expect herself to do that in a million years, especially to someone like the Prince of Gotham. Maybe it was the alcohol that turned her into a raging lunatic? Usually she could stand to contain herself around people she hated. After all, she managed to do so in high school and college. Everyone was just so incredibly _annoying._ It irked her knowing that these people ate caviar and drank champagne and laughed at things that were not funny while homeless children scrounged for food in the dumpsters each night. Gotham was getting worse and worse, and the only people that had the money and the power to change it would rather invest in yachts and summer homes.

Still, that did not excuse her foolish behavior. She would have to apologize to Bruce. It was not like her to curse at a stranger – she did not know him enough to lash out on him like that. Yet she did know that if she did not learn to control herself around Gotham's elite, and cage in her emotions like she had done her entire life, this job would get the best of her.

She was looking down at her painful shoes when she bumped into a large, hard object and almost landed right on her ass. Thankfully, she stumbled back a little and caught her balance. She then looked up to find herself face to face with a man almost twice her height and weight. He had several tattoos, was bald with bulgy eyes, and had a profound chin. He licked his lips and offered her a sickening smile.

"Hello there, beautiful." She turned around to run in the other direction but he grabbed her arm and dug his dirty fingernails into her flesh.

"Give me your purse," he demanded. She handed it over to him, her heart racing. She watched as he took her credit card and searched for nonexistent cash. When he realized there was not much to steal, he took her driver's license and slipped that along with her Visa card into his back pocket. Displaying his yellowish brown teeth, he laughed aloud. Nora frantically looked around. She found that the area was completely deserted and pitch black except for the dimly lit area under the street lamp just a few feet away.

"Now I will be able to find you, pretty," he told her, seemingly looking forward to tracking down the address printed on her license.

Still firmly gripping her arm, he pulled her closer. Nora did not know what to do. Scream for help? He would only hurt her more. She didn't have her pepper spray on her, and she was fairly certain that even if she tried to use what little self defense skills she possessed, he would overpower her with ease.

He dragged her away from the street lamp and into an alley. Pressing her against the wall, he let his hands roam across her neck and over her breasts. She could smell his rotting breath and sweaty body only inches away, and tried to wriggle free from his grasp. Her squirming only brought him pleasure, and he pushed himself against her with force. She opened her mouth to scream but he covered it with his grimy hand, pressing her skull against the brick building.

"Don't you dare make a nose, or I'll bash your fucking head into this wall." Tears forming in her eyes, Nora bit his hand and kneed him in the groin, ripping her beautiful new dress in the process. What a great idea it was to walk home alone. This night was proving to be rather catastrophic – all caused by her dim-witted decisions.

The man bent over slightly in pain, loosening his grip on her. She took this chance to start running back to the street, but the man quickly realized that his prey was escaping and grabbed her ankle, pulling her down onto the hard pavement. She scraped her knees, hands, and cheek as she fell. He then walked over to her, picked her up, and slammed her hard into the wall. Nora fell to the ground, blacking out. The man was about to kick her when he was violently pulled backwards, causing him to gag on the collar of his shirt that was digging into his neck. He was turned forcibly, and his eyes widened in fear when they landed on a familiar masked face. Instantly, the man was knocked to the ground after Batman effortlessly broke his jaw and cracked his skull against the pavement. Still breathing, he lay motionless on the ground.

Batman knelt beside Nora, who lay on her back, knees bent and leaning to one side. She had taken a hard hit, and he only hoped that she was not seriously injured. Her dress was ripped on one side, revealing almost her entire right thigh, which was bleeding a little from the rough pavement. Just as he went to scoop her immobile body from the ground, she stirred and opened her eyes half way.

She gave a small smile when she realized that it was Batman looking down at her and not that disgusting, bald pervert. His lips hinted at a smile but never quite formed one.

"He has my license and credit card. It's in his back pocket. He said he'd find where I lived…could you get it from him?" she whispered hoarsely, a tear rolling down her cheek. Batman stood, walked over to the cowardly asshole, and harshly turned him over onto his stomach with his foot. Then he grabbed the two cards from his back pocket and put them into her purse.

Returning, he knelt down and picked her up. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder, too weak to hold it up.

"Thank you," she mumbled. He nodded as she closed her eyes.

* * *

After using Nora's keys to unlock the front door to her apartment, Bruce pulled her light body out from the passenger seat of the Tumbler and headed inside. The lights were off and the sound of light snoring was coming from the couch in the tiny living room. A small woman with long brown hair lay sprawled out across the blue sofa. Bruce continued up the stairs, wincing as they squeaked with each step he made. The apartment was old and tightly compacted, but it smelled of familiar spices and had a very homey feel to it. He liked that it wasn't spacious enough to get lost in, and that it was warm and inviting.

He found the master bedroom right away, for the hallway was not very long and only consisted of two bedrooms and a bathroom. He had noticed that one bedroom was already occupied since the door was cracked open, allowing him to see Ben's toys scattered across the floor. So he went to the other one, opened the door, and placed Nora down atop her fluffy white comforter. He liked her bedroom – it smelled of her perfume and was decorated with family photos and fresh flowers.

The moonlight shined through the bedroom and illuminated one side of Nora's angelic face. He had to refrain from staring, for he had get out before someone woke up. Closing the door, he took one last look at Nora, whose mouth was agape and whose long black eyelashes were resting against her reddened cheeks. He had the urge to climb on top of her, take her face gently in his hands, and touch his lips to hers. But he could not do that – not as Batman nor as Bruce Wayne.

The floors squeaked louder than the stairs as Bruce proceeded down the hallway. Before he had the chance to escape, a small figure emerged from the other bedroom. Bruce stopped dead in his tracks. There was not enough room to get by in the narrow hallway.

Ben rubbed his eyes, then removed his hands, hoping to find his aunt heading to bed after a long night. Instead, what he saw made him gasp.

Batman stood in the middle of the hallway, towering over him and almost blending in with the darkness. They stared at one another, both shocked.

"Batman?" Ben squeaked, not believing his eyes. His mouth had dropped and his tired eyes were wide with fascination and excitement. Bruce was angry with himself. He should have been quieter, but those damn stairs and floorboards...

"Batman, do you talk? I can't believe you're here! Is my Auntie here? Did you save her? Is she okay? What are you doing here? Do you want to see my room? Can I have your autograph?"

Bruce knelt down and put a finger to his lips to shush the boy. He obeyed him immediately.

"Your aunt is okay now. You are all safe. Don't worry. Now get back to bed. Strong men like us need their sleep," he said in a low voice, ruffling Ben's already messy hair. With that, he stood and rushed down the stairs as quietly as possible. Ben took a moment to stare at the spot where Batman had just stood, then slipped back into his bedroom with a wide grin plastered on his face.

* * *

Alfred immediately helped Bruce remove his bat suit when he returned to the bat cave at 3 AM. Bruce winced as his old butler came in contact with both his healing bruises and new cuts.

"I take it you had a rough night?" Alfred asked, reaching to place Bruce's mask back in the glass compartment that it lived in. Bruce shrugged.

"Two robberies, three drug busts, and an attack on Nora Wood." Alfred raised his eyebrows, his eyes filled with concern.

"Is she alright?"

"She's fine. Safe and sound. I ran into Ben, though. He heard me come in," Bruce explained, sliding on his flannel pajama pants over his boxers after fully removing his suit. His bare chest remained visible, along with the yellow and purple bruises on his back and sides. Alfred chuckled lightly.

"I'm sure he was honored to have Batman as a guest in his house." Bruce didn't answer at first, but walked over to the large desk in the middle of the oversized basement. He fiddled around with one of the many computers before laughing aloud.

"He asked for my autograph," Bruce replied. Alfred joined in on his laughter. On that note, the two retreated tiredly from the bat cave and headed out of the warehouse to return to Bruce's penthouse apartment.

Once home and in the kitchen, Bruce allowed Alfred to serve him a snack before he went up to bed. His eyes flickered to the flashing light near the telephone, and he looked at Alfred questioningly.

"Ms. Harding called for you, sir. It was around midnight. She asked if you were okay, and wondered why you left so abruptly." Bruce sighed, sticking his fork into his slice of apple pie.

"I'm sure you didn't tell her about the signal in the sky, the bat cave in the abandoned warehouse, and my duty to protect the city each night dressed as an oversized flying rodent," Bruce assumed with a playful half-grin.

"I told her that you were fine, and that you had some important business to tend to. That's what I tell all of your worried lady companions, sir. But as you can see, she called again to leave a message," Alfred said seriously. Bruce nodded, disappointed that Alfred was not in the mood to joke around.

"I know. That woman calls a lot, doesn't she? I like her but she seems to be a little…clingy. You know?"

"You're a hard man to make plans with, Master Wayne. I'm sure she would be less 'clingy' if you attempted to romance her more instead of occasionally meeting her at social events," Alfred suggested. Bruce thought for a moment.

"You know what? You're right. Perhaps I should bring her flowers tomorrow, and take her to lunch. How's that?" Bruce asked, looking to his butler for approval. Alfred smiled weakly.

"Bruce, do you think perhaps you are leading her on? You did say that you were not looking for a serious relationship, did you not?"

Bruce put down his fork, unable to finish his pie. His stomach twisted uncomfortably just thinking about falling in love again. He could hardly live with what he did to Rachel – there was no way he was going to let that happen again.

"I'm exhausted. I'll see you in the morning, Alfred. Goodnight," Bruce said. Alfred nodded knowingly and grabbed his plate.

"Goodnight, Master Wayne."

* * *

"Nora? Nora!" Allison Hayes called out, shaking her friend. She was sitting on the edge of Nora's bed, waiting for her to wake up from her deep slumber. Finally, Nora stirred, then lifted her head quickly from the pillow.

"Ow!" Nora yelped, grabbing the back of her throbbing head. She squinted at the sunlight pouring in through her windows, then looked down at her ripped dress and scraped legs.

"I'm assuming your current state, with your scratches and your torn dress, is the aftereffects of the animalistic sex you had last night," Ally said with a hint of question. Nora, still holding her head, stood to look in the mirror above her bureau. Her make-up was smudged, her hair was sticking in every direction, and her face was a palette of tiny cuts and dried blood. Lovely.

"I was attacked last night. Batman saved me," Nora said, almost not believing the words coming out of her own mouth. She looked at her torn up arms and noticed indentations where the man had dug his fingernails into her skin. Ally's jaw dropped.

"Are you fucking kidding me? So Ben was right? All he could talk about this morning was how Batman was standing in the hallway outside his bedroom, and how he talked to him and told him to go back to sleep. I thought it was just his dream that he was describing. So Batman was actually in your apartment?" Ally blabbed, not registering how torn up Nora was, emotionally and physically. Nora touched her face, remembering what had happened last night. Tears threatened to fall down her wounded cheeks. Ally finally noticed her friend's condition and walked over to her, then wrapped her arms around Nora's waist and hugged her from behind.

"I'm so sorry, Nora. But at least you're okay now, right? Batman wasn't about to let anything happen to you," Ally told her, squeezing Nora tighter when she saw a few tears escape her eyelids.

"I thought I was going to get raped, Ally. Right there in the middle of the alley. I didn't have time to think about it then…but now I do. Now I realize what could have happened."

"But it didn't happen, Nor. And why were you in the middle of the alley?"

"I had to walk through the Narrows because I didn't have enough cab fair to get home. And I stupidly told the cab driver that I was too tired to stop and get cash."

"Why the fuck didn't you call me to come pick you up?!" Ally shouted.

"I wasn't thinking clearly at the time, Allison. I had one too many drinks, and I…"

"NORA!" Ally cried. Nora closed her eyes tightly, forcing a few more salty droplets to fall from her lashes. Ally turned her around and gave her a proper hug.

"I'm sorry, honey. I'm so sorry. Listen, I'm going to take Ben to daycare. Why don't you take the day off? I think you need it." Nora shook her head, swallowing.

"No, no. I have a lot of work to do. I have to upload the frames from last night and get them organized for the end of the week…"

"Nora, you were attacked last night! And you look like shit. Do you really want to go into work looking like you got mauled by a dog?"

"What choice do I have? Sarah will have my head if I…"

"Alright, you know what? Do what you wish. I'm just saying that no one should have to work in such a state. But if that's what you want, then go. I'll take Ben while you shower and get ready," Ally retorted. She kissed Nora's cheek quickly before exiting the room. Nora frowned at her reflection and wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks. She did not want to go to work, but it was only her second day. And if she missed today, she'd be so behind for the rest of the week.

Nora padded across the squeaky floor to the bathroom. She stripped off her ruined dress, which was dappled in blood and dirt. She pulled out the bobby pins from her stiff, hair-sprayed curls and let her hair fall onto her bare shoulders. She then turned on the shower, waited for it to get scolding hot, and stepped in. Her mind instantly filled with a jumble of disorganized thoughts as she shampooed her sore head. She thought about her job, about her driven yet bitchy boss, about Bruce Wayne's unavoidable attractiveness, about what she said to Bruce Wayne (her cheeks reddened just thinking about it), and about Batman. He had saved her life, and yet Bruce had basically called him useless. Ha!

There had been something oddly familiar about Batman. She knew she hadn't heard his voice before – that deep growl was unique to Batman only. Was it his lips, or perhaps his eyes? She couldn't quite remember. But he was amazing, that was for sure. She thought about the way she felt when he had cradled her gently in his arms. It was as if nothing could touch her – like she was eternally safe from all things evil. And he was so kind to bring her home. She wondered if what Ben told Ally was true. Had he really run into him on his way out?

Finally realizing that was going to be late for work, Nora finished washing up and turned off the shower. She wrapped a towel tightly around her body, then picked out a black and white floral printed skirt and a cute boat-necked black blouse to wear, and continued with her daily routine. She did her make-up, trying to conceal as many of the scratches as possible, and blow-dried her naturally straight hair. Lastly, she grabbed a breakfast bar on the way out, hoping that the day would turn out better than the previous.

**Author's Note: **

**Next chapter is almost done…but I won't post it until you review some more! )**** Heehee. Sorry, I'm mean, but your reviews keep me going. **


	4. Lunch Break

**

* * *

**

Disclaimer: I recently bought Batman and Christian Bale on Ebay. Jealous?

**Chapter 4: Lunch Break**

Bruce knocked on Sarah's office door, a bouquet of red roses at hand, at 12 o'clock sharp. When she invited her visitor to come inside, Bruce carefully turned the knob and peeked through the doorway. Sarah, with her hair stuck up in a messy bun, looked stressed and panicky. Her glasses were crooked and sliding off of her nose, pencils were tucked behind both of her ears, and papers were scattered all over her desk. She looked up from her work and smiled weakly at the billionaire.

"Hi, Bruce. What a nice surprise," she said, grinning widely. She still managed to look beautiful despite her frazzled condition. Bruce returned the smile and sat down in the chair across from her.

"I was wondering if perhaps I could steal you away for an hour or so and treat us to lunch. If, that is, you are not too busy," he explained, frowning at the documents and photos drowning her workspace. He handed her the roses that she had been eyeing, and she eagerly took them and stuck her freckled nose into the petals, inhaling their scent. Placing them in a nearby vase, she sighed.

"I'm afraid, as perfect as that sounds, I cannot join you. Thank you so much for the flowers, they're lovely. And so are you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to come visit me. I left you a message last night, and I also spoke to Alfred. I was worried about you, but Alfred explained it all to me. Anyways, why don't we do dinner tonight?" Sarah quickly suggested, sifting through a few things to find her blackberry. Bruce nodded.

"That sounds fine. I'm sorry I left so abruptly…but business was calling," he lied. Well, sort of.

"It's alright. Listen, I have to get back to work. I'll see you tonight, then?"

"I'll pick you up at six. Good?" Sarah nodded in response and stood, walking over to Bruce to give him a peck on the lips. Bruce grabbed her hands, still sitting, and kissed them. Despite her occasional clinginess and fake personality that was brought upon by the judgmental upper class, she was a wonderful person to be around. She was incredibly dedicated to her work and actually possessed a brain, which, according to Bruce, added a great deal to her attractiveness.

Sarah smiled, cheeks somewhat pink, and let go of the man whom she was finding to be more and more charming each day. She then watched his broad, muscular backside and tight ass retreat from her office with a smirk.

* * *

Nora worked diligently to keep herself distracted from her thoughts. She had meetings with several of the journalists that were working on the "Most Charitable People of Gotham" piece, as well as with other photographers that worked in the surrounding cubicles, to discuss which pictures would be used. She had uploaded them all from her digital camera onto her computer, and was working on touching them up and sorting through them all. She would eventually have to report to the infamous Sarah Harding, who had the final say on the layout of the project.

She sighed, reaching for her coffee. Unfortunately, it was cold from sitting on her desk for so long, untouched and forgotten. She set it back down, then ran a hand through her hair, opening and closing different picture files of the people she cared so little about. She had always been so passionate about her photos – treating each and every object and person caught on camera as uniquely beautiful pieces of natural artwork. But now she wasn't supposed to add her own style nor experiment with odd angles. She was supposed to take classy pictures of fake, toothy grins and pricey face-lifts. She had never been so unenthusiastic about a job, and it was already taking a toll on her. But she would forever regret turning down such a substantial income, even if she felt guilty about working for the money and not for her own happiness. This was, after all, reality.

Her breath caught in her throat as the photo of Bruce Wayne popped up on her screen. She realized that she must have unnoticeably double-clicked on the file, for she was caught by surprise when Bruce's gorgeous brown eyes found hers through the monitor. His lips were formed into his signature devilish smirk, and his eyebrows were somewhat raised. His dark hair was combed back nicely, and his tuxedo showed off his well-built shoulders and chest. He looked like a true gentlemen, one that possibly possessed the power to melt Nora's heart with a simple touch. Yet she kept in mind that the photograph complimented his attractiveness and disguised his arrogance and slightly cold demeanor.

But there was no denying that the man was _sexy._

It was the simplest way to describe his outer appearance. Nora stared at the picture, ignoring Bruce's blonde companion that so noticeably stood on the side with his gentle hand placed on her bony back. She couldn't help herself. She longed to touch his muscles, run her fingers along his toned back…

Just as Nora licked her lips, lost in her thoughts, her colleague and new friend Tom popped his head into her cubicle. Nora jumped back a little, startled.

"Were you just licking your lips at Bruce Wayne?" he asked, a grin playing at his mouth. When he wiggled his eyebrows, Nora let out a laugh. Her cheeks had turned bright red and her palms were sweaty.

"No, no. The man is repulsive!" Tom snorted doubtfully.

"Oh sure, Nora. That's why your face is as red as my sun-burned ass." Nora shook her head slowly at her friend. Tom was considerably short for a man. He was only a few inches taller than Nora, who was 5'4", yet he was fairly attractive despite his size. His black hair was slightly lighter than Nora's, and he had greenish-blue eyes that were unlike any color Nora had seen before. He had an athletic build - the result, he had admitted, of many hours spent at the gym, cycling, and running with his dog. Nora had met Tom the day before, on her first day, when he was assigned to show her to her cubicle and around the office. They had instantly clicked, finding each other incredibly easy to talk to.

"How'd you burn your ass?" Nora asked with a raised eyebrow, not unaware that she was changing the subject. Instantly, the color of Tom's face matched Nora's. Nora, who had discreetly closed the picture of Bruce and Sarah after asking the question, was happy to have redirected the embarrassment.

"I went, uh, tanning. You know…in a booth. My sister didn't have any of her girlfriends to take with her, so she dragged me a long. But, of course, my fair skin is incredibly sensitive…" Tom stopped talking to watch Nora throw back her head in laughter. She had a capturing smile and an infectious laugh which he could not turn away from.

"Oh, Tom, I'm sorry. You just don't seem like the type to go tanning. You know… the metrosexual type. It's cute," Nora said, wiping the wet corners of her eyes with her fingers. He offered her a grin, showing off his lovely dimples. Nora smiled back at him, and for a moment, the two gazed at each other. The silence was not necessarily awkward, but Nora could not help but feel uncomfortable under his stare. She broke eye contact and rummaged through a few papers on her desk.

"You've been working all morning, Nora. Why don't you take a break?"

"What?" she looked up, still somewhat flustered from getting caught staring at Bruce, then losing herself in Tom's blue-green eyes.

"You know, a break? People take them sometimes. How about I treat you to lunch?" Tom offered, or more like stated, firmly placing a hand on his hip. Nora sighed, rubbing her forehead.

"I don't know…I still have to sort through hundreds of pictures, and I…" Nora was interrupted by Tom, who gently grabbed her forearm and pulled her up from her chair.

"The pictures will still be there when you get back. Trust me. Hey Phil, we're taking our lunch break!" Tom called out to their supervisor. Once he had received a curt nod from Phil, Tom let a hesitant Nora grab her purse, then led her out of the office and into the elevator.

* * *

"So are you going to tell me about those, or am I going to have to force it out of you?" Tom asked, nodding towards the scrapes that adorned Nora's caramel skin. The two photographers sat across from one another at _Mulana's, _an upscale Persian restaurant recommended by Nora and adored by her entire family. Her mother, Shireen, was Iranian, thus Nora had grown up eating Persian cuisine.

Nora set her menu down on the cream-colored table cloth and looked down at her lap. After a few moments, she decidedly lifted her chin and looked at Tom, who was staring intently at her. There was a hint of empathy in his expression.

Just as Nora was about to reply, a familiar face caught her eye and brought on a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. Bruce Wayne sat alone, only a few tables away, with a menu at hand. His blackberry lay next to his fork, surprisingly quiet. Nora noticed that a young waitress approached his table often, asking if he needed anything. The service that an important man like Bruce received at public places was astounding and disgusting at the same time.

He looked tired, yet still managed to pull off a "put together" look. He wore a business suit, as always, and his hair was styled much like it had been the previous night at the ball. And he looked like he had a lot on his mind- most likely a mixture of work and personal issues that were too complex to ignore.

Tom's eyes followed Nora's, and his shoulders instantly slouched in defeat when they landed on Bruce Wayne. This was a second time that Nora had become distracted by this man. What was so special about him, anyway? As soon as Tom had silently asked himself that question, he laughed at himself inwardly. Wayne was the Prince of Gotham; he had billions, he was extremely handsome (_Gotham Digest_'s Sexiest Man Alive), and he was a known leader of the business world. He could have any woman he wanted, and, Tom supposed, he did.

"Nora?" Tom asked, hoping to bring her attention back to their discussion. She snapped her head back in Tom's direction like she had when he had caught her staring at that picture. She picked up her menu again and scanned the various dishes as if nothing had happened. Tom let out an annoyed chuckle.

"Don't even pretend like you weren't just staring at Bruce Wayne again. What is with you and that guy? Are you sleeping with him or something?" Nora glared at Tom angrily.

"No, Tom. He is very attractive, but I don't...I don't like him. He's incredibly conceited and unbearable to be around. I was just...you see, I kind of yelled at him last night. I called him a narcissistic asshole. And now I'm afraid he'll see me, and I won't know what to say. I realize that I have to apologize, but I just…"

"Don't apologize, Nora. Just because he's an important figure in the eyes of the public does not mean you should kiss his ass. Although, I'm sure you'd just love to kiss his ass, wouldn't you?" Tom questioned sarcastically, smiling once again. He was in a lighter mood, now knowing that Nora thought Bruce was a jerk. Even if it was clear that she enjoyed looking at the man. Nora rolled her eyes.

"Enough, Tom. And I'm not apologizing to kiss his ass. I'm apologizing because I judged him before I really got to know him. That's foolish, and you know it. I assumed a lot of things about him that I'm not sure to be true." Tom shrugged.

"What did he say to you to make you that angry? I mean, you don't seem like the type of person to just blurt out whatever is on your mind. He must have said something horrible," Tom assumed, leaning in to get the juicy details. Nora chuckled.

"No, actually, he didn't. He showed up with three Russian ballerinas as if they were meaningless accessories. That pissed me off. And then he shared his opinion of Batman, which I disagreed with. And that was pretty much it. What made me angry was all of the people that I had to mingle with. I've never met such bigheaded pieces of crap, Tom. Just spending the night with them left me fuming." Tom's eyes widened.

"Wow, Nora. He didn't even say anything to you, and you flipped out like that? I can't believe it."

"Well, he spoke to me later. He told me he wanted to hear my opinion of Batman, but it was like he was mocking me. And I just get this...this feeling that he thinks he's better than everyone else," Nora confessed, realizing that defending herself was useless. She had blown up in Bruce Wayne's face for nothing.

Tom shook his head, then ordered chicken kabob and rice when the waitress finally stopped by their table. Nora ordered soup and Mast-o-khiar, a delicious cucumber and yogurt salad. When the waitress left, taking their large menus with her, Nora folded her hands on the table and looked at Tom. Tom, however, was looking behind Nora, his eyes raised.

"Miss Wood." Nora instantly recognized his voice and slowly turned in her chair. Bruce towered over her, smiling politely. For once he was not smirking at her. Nora returned his polite smile, a lump instantly forming in her throat. Bruce, who radiated confidence and smoothness, was amused by Nora's sudden stiffness and lack of words. Funny, she seemed to have found the right words last night when giving him a piece of her mind. Tom cleared his throat, waiting to be introduced to the richest man in Gotham. Nora glanced at her friend, then back up at Bruce, whose great height made him that much more intimidating. Gulping, she opened her mouth to speak.

"Tom, this is Mr. Wayne, as I'm sure you know. Mr. Wayne, this is my colleague Tom Bates," Nora said briskly. Tom's face mirrored that of Bruce's. He was also quite amused with Nora's impulsive discomfort. Tom, giving Nora a knowing smile, stood to shake Bruce's hand before taking his seat again. Bruce nodded at Tom.

"Pleasure to meet you," Bruce said. Tom leaned back to study the two people across from him. Bruce stood just to the side of Nora, staring directly at her. Nora, however, had resorted to looking at her folded hands on the table. Tom smiled, knowing that what he was about to do would torture his friend, yet he could not pass up the opportunity for great entertainment.

"Mr. Wayne, would you like to join us for lunch?" Tom asked. Bruce looked over at Tom with raised eyebrows, then looked back at Nora, who was now glaring at Tom. Bruce grinned.

"I would love to, Mr. Bates. That would save me from having to eat in silence. Let me just get my phone and inform the waitress," Bruce said, before quickly walking back to his table, giving Nora enough time to curse at Tom. Bruce returned right away and took a seat next to Nora. He smiled at the side of her face before placing his napkin on his lap.

"This restaurant is excellent, isn't it? But I must admit that I do not get to come here that often," Bruce said, frowning. He began to speak directly to Tom after realizing that Nora was not about to engage in small talk.

"I wouldn't know. I haven't tried the food yet. Nora recommended that we eat here. Her mother is Persian, so her family eats here all the time. Right, Nora?" Tom asked, trying to break Nora's silence. She looked up at him coldly.

"Yes, that's right, Tom," she replied through gritted teeth. Bruce looked at Nora, surprised.

"Ah, so you're middle-eastern, then? I was wondering where you got your dark hair and complexion. Interesting," Bruce said just as the waitress returned with their steaming food. Nora finally looked at Bruce, who was staring at his rice like a hungry lion. He stuck his fork into his rice and hurriedly brought it to his mouth. Nora watched as he closed his eyes briefly to savor the saffron, and couldn't help but smile. She quickly looked away before he noticed, then started to cut a piece of her chicken.

"Is your father white?" Bruce asked after a few minutes of silence. Nora turned her attention to Bruce, whose attention was now fully on her and off of his delicious food. His eyes were sparkling.

"Yes, he is. Why?" Bruce shrugged.

"It's a beautiful combination, that's all," Bruce said softly, turning back to his food. Nora found it odd that the man could offer such a sweet compliment one minute and then obnoxiously shove food into his mouth the next. He ate like a horse. But it was kind of cute.

Nora was blushing from the compliment, Tom was looking at the pair with an expression that Nora could not quite distinguish, and Bruce was scarfing down his lunch with a content smile planted on his face. When he realized that his company was completely silent, Bruce looked up from his plate to glance at Nora. He noticed right away that she was looking at him, her cheeks a shade pinker. She quickly looked away from him when their eyes met, and Bruce grinned. She was even more beautiful when she blushed.

"So Mr. Wayne," Tom began, his arms crossed, "What brings you to this part of the city? A meeting?" Bruce peeled his eyes off of the woman seated beside him and looked at her colleague. Nora felt somewhat relieved.

"No, actually. I came to take my…girlfriend out to lunch. But, of course, she was swamped with work. That's Sarah Harding for you," Bruce explained, remembering that he had a plate of half-eaten food in front of him. He dug his fork back into his rice eagerly. Nora, who was the opposite of Bruce when it came to eating, slowly placed a small amount of rice into her mouth and gave Tom a look. Neither of them necessarily liked their boss. As an editor, she was excellent, but as a person, not so much. Tom grinned.

"You're doing…" Tom held his tongue when Nora's eyes widened, then continued, "You're dating Sarah Harding? I had no idea. Are you two 'out' yet?" Tom asked, using air quotes. Bruce shrugged, then smiled at Nora again, who was desperately trying to avoid him.

"Well, I guess so. Nora took a picture of us together at the charity ball last night…so it's most likely going to appear in _Gotham Digest_, right?" Bruce asked. Both men looked at Nora questioningly. She let the waitress take away her half-eaten lunch away before answering.

"Well, you are one of the most charitable men in Gotham, Mr. Wayne. So, of course, your photo will be in the article," Nora replied politely. Bruce nodded, thanking the young lady who took away his now empty plate. The young girl, who couldn't have been older than 20, blushed and offered a pretty smile. He grinned and winked at her, and Nora rolled her eyes, forgetting the compliment he had given her awhile ago and remembering what a bastard he was. Of course he knew how to compliment a woman. He was a womanizer!

When the flustered teen left the table, Bruce looked back at his friends. They were silently communicating through their expressions, and Bruce briefly envied Tom for already having gained Nora's friendship. The emotion quickly left as soon as it came, and he went back to being guarded and emotionless.

After a few minutes of more awkward silence between the trio, Tom stood up.

"I have to make an important phone call," he lied, "So if you'll excuse me, I'll just be outside." Bruce nodded and watched Tom's short figure retreat from the table and head towards the exit. Nora knew that Tom had lied to allow her to apologize privately. He must have grown sick of Nora's peculiar silence. She was usually reserved, but not necessarily quiet. She enjoyed conversation, and she certainly had a sense of humor. Nora was known among her friends and family as the sarcastic one. But when she was around Bruce Wayne, she was always struggling with words. And she now knew exactly why: he made her nervous.

"Your friend is nice. How long have you known him?" Bruce asked, resting his head against his palm, his elbow leaning against the table. Nora played with the hem of her blouse.

"I actually just met him yesterday. Sarah hired me yesterday to photograph the social happenings of Gotham. Today has thankfully proven to be better than yesterday, however," Nora replied with relief. Bruce raised his eyebrows and chuckled lightly.

"I would have never have guessed that you were unhappy last night," he joked. Nora sighed, offering him a small smile.

"It's just…I can't stand being around people who only care about themselves and their money. I become angry and frustrated. They have the power to do good in Gotham and yet they greedily keep what they have to themselves. I know my job will require me to constantly be around them, but it's just so hard. And I guess that was part of the reason why I freaked out at you. And the other…" Bruce's eyes and ears were completely on her, and when she paused, he frowned.

"Yes?" he asked, urging her to continue.

"The other reason why I was so angry was because you think of Batman as meaningless. Perhaps people like you are giving to charities, but you're not doing enough. Gotham is getting worse, and the crime is too much for the police to handle. Batman is doing what he can to protect the people of Gotham because no one else will. I'm sorry I acted so childish last night, Mr. Wayne, but you must understand what I was feeling," Nora pleaded. Bruce's smile had grown wider as she talked, and she was not sure if he was mocking her or just happy to hear her apology. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, just as they had done when they had first met, before Bruce lifted his head from his palm and rubbed his forehead.

"I do understand, Miss Wood. You do not need to apologize. You thought what you were supposed to think." Nora gave him a puzzled look. Bruce resisted from brushing a strand of her bangs out of her eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"You think I'm like those people, right?"

"Well, sometimes. It's strange. When I first met you I thought you were one person, and last night at the ball you were a completely different person. It's like you have multiple personalities," Nora said softly, biting her lip. Bruce looked at her mouth, then back into her eyes. It was like she had figured him out completely.

He nodded slowly. What the hell was he doing? He couldn't tell her that his opinion of Batman was fake, and that he pretended to be someone else in front of those people. He wanted to, but he couldn't. It was far too soon. Instead of continuing, Bruce touched one of the cuts on Nora's face which she had tried to hide behind make-up. She closed her eyes as his hand came in contact with her cheek. It was cold against her hot skin, and she fought the urge to place her hand atop his. When he removed his hand, her eyes fluttered open to find Bruce scanning her cuts as if he were some sort of doctor. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes darkened.

"It was the perfect end to the perfect day," Nora said smiling, gaining her sarcasm back. He looked at her as she spoke, his eyes immediately softening.

"What happened?" he whispered hoarsely, pretending not to know. She looked down at her lap, and he lifted her chin up with his fingers, wanting her to look at him. Her eyes displayed both fear and grief.

"I…I didn't bring enough money for the cab ride back to my apartment. And I wasn't thinking straight because of the alcohol. I told the cab driver to let me off in the Narrows because I stupidly thought I could walk home from there, since I live nearby. I was…attacked by a man. He took my credit card and my license, and then he…he brought me to an alley and put his filthy hands all over me. I kicked him in the groin and almost got away, but he pulled me down onto the pavement. And then he shoved me violently into a wall. And I think that's where Batman came in and saved my life," Nora choked out, smiling slightly at the last part, then lightly added, "And you said the man's wasting his time."

Bruce reached out and grabbed her hand that lay limp in her lap. She squeezed it, a tear rolling down her cheek. Using his other hand, he wiped it away with his thumb. She looked at him with her watery eyes and noticed the sincerity in his.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne. I don't know why I told you all of that. I hardly know you."

"Don't be sorry. It's good to get it out. And again, please call me Bruce." Sniffling, Nora nodded.

"Call me Nora." Bruce smiled at her.

"Well Nora, I'm glad Batman got to you in time. Perhaps he isn't wasting his time. But don't you want to eventually confide in the police as much as you do in Batman? Their just as heroic as he is, only they don't wear masks," Bruce posed seriously. His opinion of his own secret identity was, of course, not what Nora had overheard at the ball, but he did want Gotham to have heroes with faces. He was happy that they trusted Batman, but he wanted them to also believe that Batman was not the only one trying to do good for Gotham. Harvey Dent had put hundreds of criminals in jail just before his death. Bruce wanted people to realize that regular people like Dent could make a difference.

"I confide in them both, Bruce. But where were the police last night when I was being attacked? They can't be everywhere, but Batman can. I have to trust Batman, and hope that he will come for me when I need him. I can't, however, expect the police to be there for me when they have bigger problems to deal with." _Batman will always come for you,_ Bruce thought.

"Batman will be here as long as he is needed. But what this city needs even more than Batman is dependable lawyers and police officers." Nora shrugged, her cheeks sticky from the few dried tears.

"Maybe." Bruce stared at her, deciding not to press the issue further. He knew that the police would never be as strong as Batman, but he hoped that one day the people of Gotham could believe that Commissioner Gordon's men were reliable. But, at the moment, he understood why citizens did not believe that to be true. The police, who did not possess Batman's technology and strength, were far too distracted to worry about victims of theft and rape.

Tom seemed to return at the perfect moment, which made Nora suspect that he had been eavesdropping. He held out his hand to Nora, who had turned in her chair to face Bruce, and told her that they must be getting back to work. Bruce and Nora stood and looked at one another. Bruce didn't know if he should shake her hand or hug her. They had just had a somewhat personal conversation, yet they weren't exactly friends. Were they?

Tom held out his hand to shake Bruce's before Bruce could decide. Nora smoothed the wrinkles in her pretty floral skirt and then held out a hand for Bruce, following Tom. A handshake would have to do. Bruce frowned, wishing he had just pulled her into an embrace, and wrapped his fingers around her tiny, soft hand. Her hand was so small – it was like he was holding a child's hand. But he liked the feeling of it in his, and noticed that it sort of _fit._

They said their goodbyes and parted on the street. Bruce got into the backseat of his limousine and watched as Tom led Nora across the crosswalk, an arm across her back. Suddenly, his phone vibrated from inside his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. He had received a text from Sarah.

_Thanks for the flowers. Can't wait to see you tonight. _

Bruce sighed, sticking the device back into his pants. He had forgotten all about his dinner date.

* * *

Nora picked up Ben on the way home from work, deciding to take the rest of the day to spend some time with him. He had only just arrived two nights before, and she had hardly spent an hour with the boy. She felt guilty and somewhat selfish.

"How was your day, Ben?" Nora asked after buckling him in. He shrugged.

"Same as yesterday. Billy stole my crayons again." Nora remembered that Ben had talked about Billy on the way home from daycare yesterday. Apparently, he was tall and fat, and mean to everyone he came in contact with. Nora shook her head, putting on her sunglasses before pulling out of the parking lot.

"Does Ms. Swanson know about this?" Nora asked, concerned about Ben being bullied. Ben sighed, mindlessly kicking the empty passenger seat in front of him.

"I don't know. It doesn't matter, Auntie. Batman said I was a strong man, and I told Billy that. He didn't believe me…but I know the truth," Ben said, seemingly having remembered what Bruce had told him.

"Wait, so you talked to Batman last night?" Nora watched as Ben fidgeted in his seat, then pulled at his red Transformers T-shirt. At times she could have sworn that the kid had a mild case of ADHD.

"Yes. He was nice, but he left in a hurry. Did he save you, Auntie?" Ben asked, his eyes shining with hope and utter admiration for the Caped Crusader. Nora gave him a small smile through the rearview mirror.

"He did. I was walking home, and he saved me from an attacker. The Narrows just aren't safe, Kiddo. Remember that, okay?"

"Yep. Hey, Auntie? Can you make me macaroni and cheese for dinner?" Nora laughed at the sudden change of subject.

"Of course. You know what? That sounds delicious," she replied, grinning at her blonde-headed nephew.

* * *

Bruce entered his penthouse with haste. He loosened his Armani tie as he walked swiftly passed Alfred and into his private office. Alfred followed his master, sensing that there was a lot on the young man's mind.

"Master Wayne, is everything alright?" Alfred asked, watching as Bruce sat down at his computer and picked up the phone to listen to the 23 messages he had received during lunch.

"Yes, Alfred. I'm just a little behind at work, that's all. What time's the meeting at Wayne Tower?"

"Three-thirty, sir. You have exactly one hour. Shall I get you anything?"

"No, no. I'm fine, thank you." Alfred nodded, turning on his heel and heading out to give Bruce some privacy. Bruce, holding the receiver to his ear, switched on the plasma TV that hung on the wall across from his desk. The message that he was currently half-listening to had something to do with a business proposition involving some telecommunications corporation. Bruce yawned, already bored with what the businessman had to say, and turned up the volume.

"_Details on the Joker's escape are unattainable at the moment. However, sources are now releasing the ages and occupations of the four men that were murdered this afternoon. Each murder was believed to have been committed within 30 seconds of one another, and at every crime scene police found the Joker's signature playing card lying on or beside the victims, each with witty remarks printed on it. Connections between the victims have yet to be determined, but the Joker's escape has certainly invoked terror among the citizens of Gotham. I'm Kate Weller, reporting live from downtown Gotham." _

Bruce had long since forgotten about his messages, having diverted his entire attention to the surprising news. The Joker had, yet again, managed to escape from prison. He had to admit that the man was unbelievable. And in such a short amount of time, the psychopath had already slit four people's throats. It was apparent that the Joker had undercover accomplices strategically placed all over the city, each willing to do anything for the evil man who provided them with hefty sums of money. Information regarding the identities of these sick bastards, unfortunately, was unknown. But Bruce knew that the key to keeping the Joker behind bars was to first track down his numerous assistants, who had each helped maniac break out and would continue to help him murder and steal. It was a seemingly impossible task.

"Alfred!" Bruce called. Alfred quickly rushed back in with a worried look upon his face. He had heard the news.

"Cancel the board meeting right away. We have more important matters to deal with." Alfred nodded, ready to assist his master in every way possible.

"Oh, and Alfred," Bruce called as his butler turned to leave, "Cancel my dinner plans with Sarah."

* * *

Nora sat down on the couch with Ben, who held a small plastic bowl of microwaved macaroni and cheese. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten the delightful children's meal – perhaps not since she was in high school.

Ben was staring fixedly at the television, enjoying an old episode of Spongebob Squarepants. Nora watched with amusement as he robotically shoveled the cheesy noodles into his small mouth, entranced by the TV show he loved so dearly. She scooted closer to him and put an arm around him, then kissed the top of his head.

"Hey Bud. Are you happy to be in Gotham with me, or do you miss your parents?" Nora asked, playing with his bowl-shaped hair. He looked up at her and grinned, showing off his few missing teeth.

"I like it here. You live here, and Batman lives here. It's my favorite!" Ben said enthusiastically, raising his arms in the air and almost dumping his dinner onto his shirt. Nora laughed, loving her nephew for the interesting conversations he held. Wanting to talk more with him, she was tempted to turn off the loud television. She hated the unnecessary noise it produced in her peaceful apartment. Nora was not a big fan of TV. The only time she would ever watch it was to catch an old movie or watch a rented classic. Her favorites included The Sound of Music, Sleepless in Seattle, and Casablanca. And occasionally she would watch the Travel channel, for she dreamed of seeing the world one day, and traveling vicariously through TV hosts was all she could afford at the moment. But she mainly read in her free time, aside from taking photographs. She liked reading mystery novels and the _National Geographic_ magazine, and she would sometimes indulge in an issue of _Gotham Digest _(though she tended to skip over the social section).

"What else did Batman say to you?" Nora asked, opting to simply lower the volume. Ben scrunched up his knees and held them against his chest.

"He said that you were fine, but he didn't say that he saved you. Then he told me to go back to sleep because strong men need to sleep. And then he patted my head and left. I didn't even get a chance to show him my room! He left so fast, it was like he just disappeared." Nora smiled warmly. She thought it was adorable that Ben wanted to show Batman his room, as if the vigilante had the time to listen to Ben talk about each of his toys and drawings. Ben loved to draw, especially with crayons, and tended to favor drawing himself as Batman, or Batman and himself standing side by side on a tall building, watching over the city.

"How did he leave? Through the front door?" Ben shrugged.

"I think so." Nora thought it odd that Batman, who was famous for jumping off balconies and windows (and 50 story buildings), just walked out the front door. Perhaps it was because her apartment was not very high up, and leaving through the window would basically be the same thing as exiting through the main entrance.

The two talked for awhile longer. They discussed Batman, Ben's friends at daycare, Ben's parents who were due home at the end of the week, Spongebob Squarepants, and Bruce Wayne's "castle," which Ben hoped to revisit during his short stay. Nora informed Ben that Bruce Wayne, in addition to the recently rebuilt Wayne Manor, owned a large penthouse apartment in the city, along with many skyscrapers and hotels. Ben asked if Bruce had all the money in the world. Nora told him that his assumption was _basically_ true.

Hours passed, and as soon as Ben was tucked snuggly into the guest bed, Nora retreated to her bedroom. She flipped on the lights and stared directly at the untidy, cramped space that she slept in. Bras were hanging off of the corners of her drawers and dirty clothes lay in a pile in the corner. The room was nowhere near fit for visitors, and although Batman probably only cared about getting her home safely, the fact that he had seen it like this was embarrassing.

She fell back on her bed after slipping into PJ shorts and an oversized tee. The cool breeze from the window played with loose strands of her dark hair. She closed her eyes, not bothering to pull the covers over her body, and her mind instantly flashed to him.

_Bruce Wayne was the most confusing man she had ever met._

She did not know what to think of him. She thought she had made up her mind about him at the ball, but he had acted differently today. He had complimented her, comforted her, and had refused to let her apologize, claiming that such a gesture was unnecessary. He was indeed a very complicated man, and Nora could not ignore her need to understand him. She felt that he was hiding beneath a hard exterior – one that had been molded by the public. Perhaps the billionaire was whomever people wanted him to be.

But she had started to see, after having her hands wrapped in his and her tears wiped away by his calloused thumb, that there was more to him than she had expected. He was a man of many layers, and she was not about to be fooled again by his "playboy" antics.

**Author's Note: **

**Phew. Long chapter. You reviewed, and I updated. :) Thanks for your kind words and helpful hints. More would be wonderful. BTW - I realize that Bruce was at Wayne Manor in the beginning and now he's using his penthouse. He just enjoys the change of scenery, okay?! Oh, and another thing...I realize Nora's character isn't completely developed, but you'll get to learn more about her as she and Bruce get to know one another. Kapeesh? **


	5. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

Dear Readers,

Hey guys. Okay, so you're probably really bummed out right now because you most likely saw that there was an update for this story but then quickly realized that this is just a note from me. Sorry.

Here's the deal. I have a lot done for the next chapter, but I still have to change some things around as well as finish it. If I posted what I have now, it would not be complete and that would just be stupid. I'm so sorry for keeping you all waiting. You may be wondering, "Hey, what the hell happened to this story? Is the author dead?" No. I am not dead. Well, maybe I'm figuratively dead. I moved into college a few weeks ago, and since then, I've done nothing but eat, sleep, and do homework. Mainly it's homework that is taking up all my damn time. Too bad summer couldn't have lasted for another few months, eh? So anyways, I haven't even TOUCHED the next chapter since I moved in. I have had NO time. I'm not sure when I will have time again…possibly during an upcoming weekend, or possibly next month. I don't know. But all I can say is that I do not intend on abandoning this story. I will post more. I will!

So that's just my excuse, you can take it or leave it. No one has really complained about the lack of updates…but I'm sure that many of you are wondering where the hell I've been. Or, perhaps you have forgotten about this story, lost in your own worlds of schoolwork and sleep deprivation. That is okay with me. I'm just filling you in.

Hopefully I will have time to breathe soon. Until then, bare with me.

Love from a tired college student,

Mhx3


End file.
